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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26434465">Teenagers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockwhomentalist/pseuds/sherlockwhomentalist'>sherlockwhomentalist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Violence, Bullying, Explicit Language, Multi, Other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:20:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,697</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26434465</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockwhomentalist/pseuds/sherlockwhomentalist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
            <p>This story starts out with Steve and his beginning. No asthma, just not very athletic.</p>
          </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bruce Banner/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark/Thor, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Rhodey" Rhodes &amp; Everyone, James "Rhodey" Rhodes &amp; Tony Stark, Sam Wilson (Marvel) &amp; Everyone, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Fallen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This story starts out with Steve and his beginning. No asthma, just not very athletic.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: car wreck</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steve was a relatively normal kid. Scrawny, maybe, but it’s not his fault that he enjoyed picking up books rather than weights. His best friend, Bucky, was always at his side, always keeping him out of trouble. Or trying to, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve got up that morning with a start. His mother cooking some eggs in the little kitchen of their apartment. Steve put on a shirt and went to eat something before heading off to school. He’s in 8th grade, smartest one in his class.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Ma!” Steve hugged his mom from behind, resting his head on her back momentarily before opening the wooden door of the fridge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled out a small bottle of milk, quickly closing the fridge so that not much cold escaped. Steve pulled out some Raisin Bran cereal and prepared his small meal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, baby. Excited for school today?” Mom asked, scraping the eggs onto a plate and sitting down to eat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!” Steve began to excitedly explain what his day might bring. “I have a maths test today, though. But Bucky helped me study, so I’m definitely going to pass!”</span>
</p><p>“Eat quickly, hon. Wouldn’t want you to be late!”</p><p>
  <span>Steve scooped the cereal quickly into his mouth. He sat the bowl in the sink and dashed to his room. He shoved a book into his bag along with his homework.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brush your teeth!” Mom reminded him. Grumbling, Steve brushed his teeth, foot tapping in pent-up excitement. He spat and rinsed his mouth, running to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t forget your lunch!” Mom handed him a little brown bag and planted a kiss on his forehead. He gave a little wave and said his goodbyes before shutting the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled his bike key from his jacket pocket and unlocked the chain that hooked his bike to a little rack outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hurry, Steve!” Bucky was already waiting with his bike, his backpack hoisted over his shoulder. Steve gave him a smile as he was finally able to detach his bicycle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go!” Bucky stepped onto his bike, forcing Steve to put his lunch bag in his mouth- rather than stuff it in his backpack- as to not be left behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait for me, Buck!” Steve managed to shout around the bag.</span>
</p><p>They had to cycle about 3 miles to get to school. Their parents were fine with it, as long as they stuck together. They were about halfway through their trip when they took a little break at a busy intersection.</p><p>Steve had managed to shove his lunch into his backpack as they rode. As they waited at the crosswalk, Bucky turned to him, a giant smile on his face.</p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to the dance on Friday? Takin’ anyone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe...” Steve looked down at his bike handles in nervous embarrassment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? Who?”</span>
</p><p>“Haven’t really asked them yet, kinda nervous, y’know?” Steve muttered. He looked at Bucky, swallowing anxiously.</p><p>
  <span>“Is it Abigail? I heard she’s a dead hoofer; perfect to match your two limp feet.” Bucky gave a shrug. “Or maybe Sam? She’s a dish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about that new maths teacher? Mr. Stark? He seems a bit stuck up a to me.” Steve quickly changed the subject. He scooted closer to Bucky to hear what he had to say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! He keeps going on and on about some chemistry stuff that makes you super strong. How about that?” Bucky waved a dramatic hand as he spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seems like a butter and egg man to me. Sharp suit every day.” Steve tugged his jacket closer to his chest and straightened out his back, imitating Mr. Stark’s usual nonchalant, yet all-business appearance. “Today, class. We’ll learn about some complicated math that you will never use in your adult lives.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky gave out a howl of laughter, slapping his knee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well what about you, Bucky. You going to the dance?” Steve referred back to the previous topic. He pressed his thumbs together as he waited for a response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah.” Bucky waved his hand dismissively. “If I’m lucky I could snatch some booze from Mrs. Delroy’s class.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bucky! You can’t drink booze! It’s bad for you,” Steve said, slightly outraged and equally fascinated by Bucky’s bravery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Says the one who sleds on trash can lids at 1000 miles an hour just to impress me!” Bucky scoffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve let out a huff. The pedestrian light finally turned green, allowing them to cross the street. They began to pedal across the way when a loud horn sounded and a squeal of tires.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve jerked his head, his eyes widening as he saw a large 18-wheeler barreling towards them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bucky!” Steve shouted as he tried to petal out of the way. There was a shriek as the truck seemed to slow and time stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a loud crack and the world went black.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve woke with agonizing pain everywhere. He didn’t notice he was screaming until his head began to clear slightly. He swiveled his head, not sure what he was looking for until he spotted it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve took most of the hit, and he was surprised he could even open his eyes. But Bucky was unconscious on his back a few feet away from him, his arm stuck under the tipped-over container of the truck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bucky!” he screamed, trying desperately to crawl over to his injured friend. “Buck!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve finally noticed the people gathered around them. They were talking to each other in hushed voices, or were they hushed? He couldn’t tell anymore. They laid their hands on Steve as if they could keep him still. He tried to shrug them away, but there was a crippling pain all over his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wailed as the sides of his vision went blurry. He was losing sight of Bucky. No. No! Steve wanted to scream again, but his voice was gone, his throat hoarse and scratchy. Soon, the pain engulfed him, consuming his world until everything around him was spinning, and then black.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>Steve woke coughing and sputtering, looking around wildly. He was expecting to be in the crash still, but instead he was in a cot in a bright-white and blindingly well lit room. A man was by his side in an instant, an excited grin on his face.</p><p>
  <span>“Where am I?” Steve managed to choke out. “Where’s Bucky?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re okay, you’re okay! Ha!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Steve thought as he peered closer at the face hovering over him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It can’t be! Mr. Stark?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What... the hell,” Steve whispered to himself. The pain was gone. Nothing hurt; nothing ached. Actually, he felt like he could run a marathon that very instant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve pushed himself up, glancing warily at Mr. Stark as his eyes combed the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky was resting in an identical cot a few feet away, a white blanket pulled up to his neck. Steve pushes himself onto his feet and nearly tumbled over by the extra weight he carried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked down at himself, his arms had become thicker, muscle rippling along his skin. His legs were larger, his calves bulging under his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looked at Stark again before looking over at Bucky. He ran to Bucky’s side, nearly falling backwards when he saw Bucky’s empty shoulder. There was just... nothing there. There were scars running along his empty socket, and Steve reached out a hand to run his fingers along it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His anger flared, hotter and brighter than anything Steve had ever felt before. Before he knew what he was doing, he had Stark by the shirt collar and pinned against the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell did you do to him!” Steve shouted. He was lifting Stark off the ground now, Stark hanging mercilessly by his shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Security!” Stark cried. Steve dropped his teacher immediately, looking down at his hands as he slowly backed away from the burly guards who had busted into the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What had he done? How had he done it? Where was his mom?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve began to sniffle as a wave of tears pressed at his eyes. His back bumped against the far corner of the room, close to Bucky’s bed and far away from the door. There, Steve brought his knees to his chest, held his legs, and cried.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>“Dead hoofer” - bad dancer<br/>“Dish” - cute<br/>“Butter and egg man” - the money man<br/></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. New Recruits</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steve and Bucky awaken in a new place and are forced to be lab rats</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The guards checked on Stark before exiting the room. Stark straightened out his clothes and went to check on Steve, who was still huddled in the corner of the near-empty room.</p><p>“C’mon kid. Get up. The Buyers will be here soon and I want you two to be presentable.”</p><p>“Buyers?” Steve sniffed, bringing his head up to look at Stark.</p><p>“You’re a scientific breakthrough!” he exclaimed. “Of course people are going ta wanna buy you. If I’ll give them to ya is another thing entirely.”</p><p>Steve let himself be dragged to his feet and back to his bed. He was feeling warm and sleepy, as if he were running a fever. Steve plopped down onto his cot, wiping his nose on his gown.</p><p>“So, from what all the other test subjects experienced, your senses should be heightened.” Stark pulled a small sack from under the cot. He dug around for a few moments before pulling out some circular devices, much like a compact version of hearing aids. Except there was no strap to hold the battery, only the earpiece.</p><p>“These are to help with the noise. They’re noise cancelling and they can connect to radio waves so we can be able to contact you when we need to.”</p><p>“Why would you need to contact me?” Steve asked, taking the buds from Stark’s hand.</p><p>He just gave a little smile before going over to check on Bucky. Stark pulled up his sleeve to check on Bucky’s healing.</p><p>“How long were we asleep?” Steve asked, rising to his feet.</p><p>“You were taken from the crash and to a hospital 3 weeks ago. Neither of you were expected to live.” Stark turned to him, a huge grin on his face. “But thanks to me- and a few friends- you’re alive! Isn’t it wonderful!”</p><p>Steve gave him a blank look. Stark gave an huff, dropping a couple of earbuds on Bucky’s cot, not caring if they got crushed.</p><p>“Whatever, kid. Save someone’s life and they just give you a look,” Stark mumbled under his breath.</p><p>“So what do you want from us?” Steve questioned.</p><p>“Cash would be nice,” Stark joked. “There are still some aftermaths of the war that need some cleaning up. With a bit of training you’re gonna help us.”</p><p>“So we’re your trigger men? Really! We’re thirteen.” There was a dance on Friday, Steve wanted to say, but decided to keep quiet. I’m thirteen and you want me to fight in a war we already won. Steve clenched his fists, blood boiling. He looked over at Bucky who was still sound asleep.</p><p>“So we’re your war dogs?”</p><p>“I guess you could call it that...” Stark trailed off, placing his hands on his hips. “Look, just roll with it, kid. There isn’t much else I can do. It isn’t up to me.”</p><p>“Who is it up to?” Steve asked defiantly.</p><p>Stark let out an annoyed growl. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” And with that, Stark left the room.</p><p>Steve went over to Bucky’s sleeping form, rubbing at the earpiece around his ear. He prodded Bucky’s side, lightly smacking his face to wake him.</p><p>“C’mon lugnut,” Steve said with a poke to Bucky’s ribs.</p><p>“Hmph.” Bucky let out a grunt. His leg kicked out and his eyes shot open, body turning to look around frantically. </p><p>Steve held Bucky’s shoulders, pinning him down to the cot. He smiled into Bucky’s wild eyes, trying his best to soothe him without words.</p><p>“Shh, hey, hey! It’s me!” Steve showed some teeth in his grin. This seemed to get to Bucky, who immediately relaxed and gave him a smile in return.</p><p>“Hey Steve!” he greeted Steve cheerily. He sat up from his bed, looking around in wonder at the room.</p><p>Bucky’s eyes then furrowed as he looked at his missing arm. His mouth started to form a question but no words came. His hand tentatively touched the empty arm under his shoulder. Bucky’s eyes widened in realization before being quickly replaced with anguish.</p><p>“It’s… gone?” Bucky whispered.</p><p>“Yeah, Buck. I’m so sorry.”</p><p>Bucky cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from his missing limb. </p><p>“Don’t dwell on the past. What my Mom always says. Maybe I’ll get a new one.” Bucky gave Steve a quick grin. “But what about you? You’re all… big.” </p><p>“Ugh, yeah.” Steve let out a nervous chuckle. “Stark gave us that super strong stuff. You know, the Soldier Serum or something.”</p><p>“Really?” Bucky stood from his cot and tested his legs. “Well, I definitely feel different.” Bucky pointed to the hearing aids in Steve’s open palm. “And what are those beauts you’re hiding from me?”</p><p>“Oh, these are hearing aids. Our senses were apparently heightened, so these block out some of the noise.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Bucky grunted, taking the earpieces and sticking them in his ear, the battery pack looping over to the back of his ear. “They’re a bit heavy,” Bucky complained.</p><p>“You get used to it,” Steve said as if he’s had to wear them his whole life.</p><p>There was some chatter outside before the door was violently swung open, revealing burly guards and several men in green uniforms, and some in formal suits.</p><p>Two guards gripped Steve by his arm, another two grabbed Bucky, dragging them forward to display to the new arrivals.</p><p>“Do not damage the merchandise!” one growled with a German accent. Steve tried to shoot Bucky a worried look, but Bucky was too busy struggling against the guards.</p><p>“Now, now gentlemen. I think they’re good,” Stark said as he moved out from behind a tall man in a green uniform. He gave the guards a pointed nod, and they reluctantly let go of Bucky and Steve’s arms.</p><p>“I see they recovered exponentially,” commented a short man.</p><p>“Yes, and they have grown in muscle mass,” said another.</p><p>Stark clapped his hands, a wide smile on his face. “Aren’t they perfect? Just a bit of training and they’re ready!”</p><p>The tall man in the green uniform let out a grunt, supposedly of approval, before spinning on his heels and exiting the room. The short man in the suit flashed Stark a fake smile before guiding the rest of the party out of the door.</p><p>Stark let out a frustrated breath before turning to Bucky and Steve. “Okay, I need to prep you two.” Stark rubbed the bridge of his nose, one hand resting on his hip.</p><p>“Suits and weapons. Rules and regulations,” Stark muttered. “Alright, come with me.” He waved his hand and the guards nudged them forward with forceful hands.</p><p>Steve kept Bucky from being shoved over, letting him walk in front of Steve. Bucky looked over his shoulder to cast him a worried glance before continuing. </p><p>“Just a few more rooms, and- ah! Here we are!” Stark led them into a wide-spaced workshop where sounds of welding torches, metal clanking together, and shouting could be heard. Steve tensed up, the noises piercing his ears despite the earbuds. </p><p>“So, weapons. I have amazing choices.” Stark led them down a row of tables, different crates and prototypes scattered about them. “Do you guys have anything you’re good at?”</p><p>“Umm.” Steve looked over at Bucky, who shook his head. “Not really…”</p><p>“Hmm,” Stark muttered under his breath, “you can never go wrong with a sniper.”</p><p>He took a gun from a mantle on the wall, it’s barrel taking up half of the weapon, the other half thick with gun machinery that Steve didn’t have the faintest clue of how it worked. Stark was about to hand it to Steve before looking at Bucky and scrunching his face.</p><p>He sat the gun on the table and led them wordlessly to a different part of the room. </p><p>“Ay! Richards! You got that arm yet?” Stark shouted over the noise of the workshop. </p><p>“Just finished calibrations.” Steve peaked around Stark to see a tall man with an excited smile on his face, a shiny, metallic arm resting on a stand. Different patches and wires were stuck along the arm, strung to a computer, one finger flexing at a time. Unnerved, Steve took a step back.</p><p>The computer was similar to one Stark used in his classroom. It looked like a big white block, keys making a weird click as he assaulted them with his fingers. No other teacher had a computer, but they all hated it, preferring a simple chalkboard.</p><p>“Woah…” Bucky whispered, taking steps closer. “Is that? Is that mine?”</p><p>Stark patted Bucky on the back, gently guiding him closer. </p><p>“Yup!” Richards exclaimed cheerily. “Come over here and I can set you up!”</p><p>Bucky shot Steve an excited smile before sitting on a little stool. The gown restricting his movements as he tried to swing his legs back and forth. </p><p>Richards rolled up Bucky’s sleeve and wiped off the nub of his arm with a wet washcloth. </p><p>“This will be a bit cold at first. Don’t flinch away,” Richards instructed, pulling the patches off the fake arm and gently setting it against Bucky’s bare skin.</p><p>Bucky held back a shudder as he let the cold metal sit against his skin. “You're going to feel some movement, it’s the arm adjusting to the shape of your injury.” </p><p>Bucky gripped his gown as he felt the metal pressing and pushing against his scars. Soon the arm quit moving and Bucky slowly began to relax, releasing a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.</p><p>“Hold still,” Richards commanded as he messed with different settings on the computer. “This parts gonna hurt.” </p><p>Bucky gave a little nod, signalling he was ready. Richards hit a button, and a few panels moved at the part of the arm right above Bucky’s skin. Without hesitation, the little panels unfolded hidden spear-like shapes and impaled itself into Bucky’s arm. He let out a yelp, gritting his teeth as the spears dug in deeper. </p><p>The panels went back into their original places, leaving the spears impaled into Bucky’s skin. </p><p>“All done!” Richards clapped his hands, a smile plastered on his face. “Move your index finger for me.”</p><p>Bucky frowned, focusing on moving his finger. Soon he was able to move it, and then all his fingers, and then twist his wrist and bend his elbow. You might’ve thought he’d never had an arm by the way he was acting.</p><p>“You stick with Doctor Richards, James,” Stark said. He guided Steve away with a hand on his shoulder. “I wanna talk with you alone. Give you a little insider info, m’kay?”</p><p>“Okay?” Steve replied, uncertainty settling in his gut.</p><p>“Lemme start with the strength. You got the most of the dosage. If you hadn’t gotten it, you would’ve died. Bucky would’ve lived, but with unbearable pain. The doctors said it was impossible for you to pull through, so they passed you off to me and my crew.” Stark led him to a set of thick, steel double doors. </p><p>“There are more like you,” he announced, checking in with security. One door audibly unlocked, slowly creaking open from the inside. </p><p>The sound of fighting hit his ears. Grunting and shouting as punches were being thrown. “More like me and Bucky?”</p><p>“Somewhat. They’re also my… specimens, you could say.”</p><p>A loud whistle blew, and the two who were fighting quickly ceased. They wiped the sweat away from their foreheads, unwrapping bandages they wore on their hands. </p><p>“Line up!” Stark shouted in a booming voice. Steve jumped slightly from the intensity of it.</p><p>All the people in the room- a gym by the looks of it- ran into a file formation. They all looked around Steve’s age or older. A mixed girl looking giddy with energy, standing next to a mixed boy with toned arms. They looked similar to each other, possibly siblings, Steve deduced. Another girl had an eerie calmness about her. Platinum hair tied up in a ponytail, the girl stood with her hands behind her back and heels pressed together. A tanned boy with brown scruffy hair stood next to a short girl whose posture was incredible, and nose stuck slightly in the air. </p><p>Rich. Steve instantly knew. If he wasn’t a respectable young man whose mother raised him well, his eyes would be rolling out of his head. </p><p>A tall black boy stood next to a shorter boy whose eyes were narrowed in a suspicious scowl.</p><p>“Well, introduce yourselves,” Stark urged them.</p><p>The giddy girl started. “I’m Jacqueline, and this is my brother Brian.” She gestured a hand at the boy beside her. He gave a small wave.</p><p>“Claire Voyant,” the platinum-haired girl said. She stood still as a statue.</p><p>“Namor,” the tanned boy told him, his voice rumbling deep in his throat.</p><p>“I’m Madeline Joyce!” the girl who Steve and thought of as wealthy spoke. Her voice was slightly squeaky, showing a clear young age.</p><p>“Gabrial Jones,” the tall boy said, his fingers tapping against his leg.</p><p>“And I’m Peter Parker,” the youngest boy stated, a scowl still painted in his face.</p><p>“This is your team now, Steve,” Stark told him. “Get to know them. Because if you don’t and we need you to fight, it could kill you and every one of them.</p><p>“Tell them your name, kid.”</p><p>Steve cleared his throat, looking at the teenagers assembled in front of him.</p><p>“I’m Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry this came out so late! I added the guys that lived in the same time as Captain America in the comics.</p><p>Jacqueline and Brain are Spitfire and Union Jack respectively.</p><p>Claire Voyant is Black Widow (not the typical one, but the more magic one).</p><p>Madeline Joyce is Miss America.</p><p>Peter Parker is Spider-man Noir.</p><p>Gabriel Jones is a member of the Howling Commandos</p><p>Namor is a fish dude</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Highway to Hell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tony’s origins</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: blood and descriptive violence</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tony hopped out of the car with a small wave to his mom before she drove away. The front doors of the school were bleak. The school's name was spelled in dirty letters a few feet above the door, and a long hallway stretched in front of the doors.</p><p>Tony sighed and entered the school, taking a right turn to go to the gym. Tightening his grip around his Thermos, he entered the loud gym. </p><p>“Hey, Tones!”</p><p>Tony looked up in the bleachers to see Rhodey waving down at him. He smiled and clambered up the steps. Happy and Pepper were sitting together with Rhodey, their bags at their feet. </p><p>“Hiya, Tony!”</p><p>“Hey.” Tony smiled. It was good to talk to his friends again. The summer was too busy, with Tony helping his dad in the workshop on the newest project. </p><p>“What classes do you guys have?” Pepper asked. “I’ve got business stuff.”</p><p>“Physics and Math,” Rhodey replied.</p><p>“Psychology and Math. I have a lot of classes with James,” Happy stated. </p><p>“I’ve got Physics and Biology,” Tony said. He pulled out his schedule to check it over again. “Yeup. At least most of us are in the same class together.” Tony looked over at Pepper with a frown. “Sorry, Pep.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” she shrugged.</p><p>The teachers blew the whistle to dismiss them. They chatted on the way to the first block. Tony walked with Rhodey Happy to math class. Rhodey pulled out two Pop-Tarts and handed one to Happy, quickly biting into the other. </p><p>“Hungry?” Tony chuckled. Happy tucked his in his pocket. “Looks like you two just had a drug deal.”</p><p>“Gotta keep it secret,” Happy said.</p><p>“That all you’re gonna give me?” Tony laughed. </p><p>Rhodey pulled a granola bar out of his inside jacket pocket. “Shh,” he said, sliding it into Tony’s hoodie. Happy snickered as they entered class. </p><p>Math went by quickly, the only thing they did was an About You sheet and introductions. The three split up afterwards, Tony going to Biology, while Happy and Rhodey went to English. </p><p>The class was mostly full. Tony looked around for a seat, seeing most of the kids were either paired or had their bags next to them. One kid, on the other hand, was quietly scribbling. </p><p>Tony scooted over to him, tapping him lightly. </p><p>“Hmm?” the kid took out an earbud and turned to look at Tony. </p><p>“Can I sit next to you?” Tony asked with a shy smile. </p><p>“Oh, ugh, sure.” The kid scooted to the side a bit to give Tony more room. </p><p>He sat down, sliding his backpack down to make the least amount of noise possible. Tony looked over at the kid, seeing that he was watching the teacher. He was tapping his pencil against his fingers, making a light tapping sound.</p><p>“Shh! Alright class!” the teacher began. “I’m Dr. Johnson.” He wrote his name in messy handwriting across the board. “Be quiet so I can call role.”</p><p>Tony waited patiently for his turn. “Bruce Banner!”</p><p>“Here!” The kid next to Tony shot his hand up. So his name is Bruce. Gotta remember that. </p><p>“Tony Stark.”</p><p>“Here!” Tony raised his hand. </p><p>“Stark? As in Stark Industries?” one kid whispered behind him. </p><p>“What’s Stark Industries?” their friend whispered back. </p><p>Bruce snickered at the altercation, Tony chuckling in return. </p><p>“Stark, eh?” Bruce smiled. “Guess I don’t have to worry about homework.”</p><p>“Don’t be so easily fooled, I never do it on time,” Tony joked.</p><p>“Since I don’t really care about where you sit, I’ll just heavily imply that you don’t switch seats all the time,” Dr. Johnson said from his desk.</p><p>Bruce went back to scribbling, and Tony peeked at what he was doing. All he saw were vague science terms and long math equations. Class began before the full nosiness could kick in. </p><p>***</p><p>Lunch rolled around during right after Biology. Tony sat down next to Rhodey. Happy and Pepper filed in a few moments later. Chicken strips and bland potatoes were piled on their trays. </p><p>“So… how was it?” Tony asked, shaking his milk carton. </p><p>“How was what, school?” Rhodey snorted. “Chill, I guess. What did you think of Mrs. Hernandez, Happy?”</p><p>“Seemed… off?” Happy tried to explain. “I dunno, but I dunno if I like her too much.”</p><p>“I’ve got world history,” Pepper butted in, “and I think Mr. Gregory is great. He said he would mostly just make us take notes.”</p><p>“So, every History class since the Fourth Grade?” Tony asked.</p><p>Tony was distracted by spotting Bruce sitting alone a few seats down. He pondered over asking him to sit with them.</p><p>“Hey, that’s my new partner in Biology. Should I ask him over?” Tony whispered to Rhodey, who was shoveling more chicken in his mouth. </p><p>“Sure,” he mumbled, his voice muffled. </p><p>“Yo, Bruce!” Tony called. Bruce looked up, surprised. “Wanna sit with us?”</p><p>“Ughhh.” He looked down at his tray and back at the group. “Sure…?”</p><p>“Great!” Rhodey gave a grin as he drank some of his milk. </p><p>Tony began introductions as Bruce sat down.</p><p>“This is Happy and James, but I call him Rhodey because it’s convenient,” Tony began. </p><p>“And I’m Virginia, or Pepper. Nice to meet you Bruce,” Pepper greeted. </p><p>“Nicknames?” Bruce questioned. </p><p>“Well, Happy’s name is Harold, but he’s always Happy, y’know?” Rhodey explained, Happy nodding seriously. </p><p>“And Pepper,” Tony laughed as he began the story. “Well, Pepper once threatened me with pepper spray when we first met. Her mom works at my place, as my dad’s secretary. So when she was chilling in my living room, I snuck up behind her and scared her.” Tony paused to let out a hysteric wheeze. “So then she, she whips out her pepper spray and nearly burns my eyes off.”</p><p>“Very effective, if I do say so myself,” Pepper said. </p><p>The group laughed through lunch, Bruce swiftly integrating with the group. He sat with them at Physics, and, thankfully, they all had the same Advisory class. </p><p>***</p><p>Tony climbed into his car at the end of the day, satisfied with his classes, and his new friend.</p><p>The family maid sat in the front seat.</p><p>“How was school today?” Rosa asked.</p><p>“It was okay. It was great seeing my friends again!” </p><p>Tony ran happily into the house as Rosa pulled up, throwing open the door and tossing his bag in his room.</p><p>“Tony!” </p><p>Tony cringed. It was his dad. This probably isn’t good news.</p><p>Tony slowly crept into the living room, his breath quite. He left the hall, seeing Dad sitting in his chair and Mom in the kitchen. </p><p>“I have great news!” Dad said when he saw Tony. “We’re going to Afghanistan!”</p><p>“Why?” Tony asked, sitting on the couch. </p><p>“To show off the Jericho missile! We’ve worked hard for this,” Dad said. He rose to his feet to stand beside Tony. “If you didn’t get that repulsor system up and running that thing would have never been able to work.”</p><p>Tony beamed at the praise. Dad rarely compliments him like that. Tony had, after months of research, finally been able to get the repulsor system functioning. It’s one of the main parts of the missile, and one of the newest parts.</p><p>“Welp! Pack your bags!” Dad smiled. </p><p>***</p><p>“Is it better to be feared, or respected?” Howard began, stepping to the front of the crowd. “I say, is it too much to ask for both? With that in mind I humbly present the crown jewel of Stark Industries Freedom Line. The first missile system to incorporate our proprietary repulsor technology. </p><p>Tony stood in the back, his hands sitting awkwardly at his side. The cap around his head was snug, and barely keeping the heat off his head. </p><p>“They say the best weapon is one you never have to fire. I respectfully disagree. I prefer the weapon you only have to fire once. That’s how I’ve done it, that’s how America does it, and it’s worked out pretty well so far.”</p><p>Tony smiled from his place beside Mom. She gave him a small pat on the back. He didn’t notice the worry that twisted her face.</p><p>“Find an excuse to let one of these off the chain and I can personally guarantee you, the bad guys won’t even want to come out of their cave.” He motioned to someone in the back. </p><p>The missiles moved up and over, directing towards the mountains. They pointed more and more to the sky before one suddenly jet off.</p><p>Tony gave out a small chuckle. He forced down the little rush of adrenaline he got from seeing one of Dad’s inventions being displayed. Everyone watched as the missile released dozens of miny-missiles. </p><p>“For your consideration: the Jericho.”</p><p>The mountainside erupted as they made contact. Large explosions set off, sending a cascade of dirt and rock shooting up into the air. Dust billowed closer until a wave hit them, making Dad step forward to regain his balance, and made Tony’s hat fly off his head.</p><p>Dad celebrated with champagne, and introduced Tony to a few of the army people he was selling to. They all seemed very serious, a scowl painted on their faces. Tony managed to relocate his hat and replace it on his head. </p><p>***</p><p>They began their ride back to the base, Dad chatting with the soldiers escorting them. Tony felt an uneasy feeling hit his stomach. </p><p>They’re using those on people?</p><p>“Hey… could I get a photo with you?” one soldier asked.</p><p>“Yeah! Totally,” Dad said. The soldier pulled out a small camera and took a selfie, throwing up some peace signs. </p><p>“How you doing, kid? Lookin’ a little pale,” the driver commented. </p><p>“I’m good. Just a bit hungry,” Tony said. He adjusted the cap on his head. </p><p>The jeep in front of them exploded upwards, leaving fire in its wake. The driver slammed on the brakes and grabbed her gun. </p><p>“What’s going on?” Tony shouted. Gunfire rang all around them. The soldiers started shouting things at each other that he couldn’t make out. </p><p>The driver hopped out only to be shot immediately. The one who took a selfie in the passenger seat ordered them to stay there as he ran out. </p><p>“Give me a weapon!” Dad demanded. </p><p>Mom was yelling her head off, grasping Tony’s arm. Her nails dug into his skin, and he winced. Dad shouted for the soldier, but he had already left. </p><p>The soldier began shooting, but a shot was soon fired, hitting the man in the head and cracking the front windshield. Dad started to open his door when Mom yelled at him.</p><p>“What are you doing! You could die out there!”</p><p>“I have to help! I’m no use in here!” He ran out of the car before she could respond. Mom’s breathing was frantic and her hold on Tony tightened even further.</p><p>Dad started running for some rocks. Tony watched, time slowing as a rain of bullets fired down on Dad, piercing the side windows. Mom was sobbing now, but soon stopped when a sniper got her in the head. </p><p>Blood splattered onto Tony’s face, and he sat there in horror. His Mom and Dad were dead. Anywhere he went he could die. Outside seemed safer than inside, despite the pressing gunfire. </p><p>Tony ran out of the open door, crawling towards a bolder to hide behind. There was a thud, and Tony looked over to see a bomb had landed next him, Stark painted on the side. </p><p>Tony ran, stumbling backwards as the bomb detonated. Shrapnel penetrated his chest, and the force of the explosion sent him flying backwards. He pulled open his button-up to see that the shards had gone through the special armor Dad had made for him. The pain hit him like a wave, making him gasp for breath. Tony’s world slowly sank into blackness as he felt himself being dragged away. </p><p>***</p><p>Tony woke up to an unbearable pain in his chest. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. He cringed as he felt hands inside his chest, prodding at his heart and organs. </p><p>Tony tried to grasp at the hands only to find he couldn’t move. Agonizing pain overwhelmed him, making him cry. A rag was placed over his mouth, and he breathed in. The world slowly faded until it was gone. </p><p>Tony could occasionally feel the hands inside of him, poking him, before he woke up. Panic welled as his hands flew to his chest. Tony ripped away the bandages to feel cold metal lodged into his sternum. </p><p>When he came to, a medical cord was shoved up his nose, and Tony grabbed it, pulling it out. He felt it move inside of him until he finally got the whole pipe out. Tony flexed his numb fingers and grabbed at a few trays on the table, which swiped to the floor. </p><p>Tony shivered at the frigid temperature, drastically different from earlier. The images flashed into his head, and he slapped his hand to his face to try and block them out. </p><p>Tony heard the scraping sounds coming from a man a bit away. A man was shaving his face in a dirty mirror. Tony moved to try to leave the bed only to be stopped by a wire. </p><p>“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the man said, and continued to shave. He had a sort of Afghan accent. His head was mostly bald, but his facial hair was gray. The man was shaving it to where it was only present around his mouth and on his chin.</p><p>Tony turned around in his cot and saw what was restricting his movements. The wires connected him to a small battery laying on a tiny round table right next to him. His breath quickened as he followed the wires to his chest, where a large metal rim protruded out his sternum. </p><p>Tony began to rip off the bandages that laced his chest. Panic rose as he felt the metal. Tony groaned as he tore through layer after layer. The contraption was finally revealed, and Tony gasped. </p><p>It was unlike anything Tony had seen. Smaller wires could be seen going further into his chest. Bolts were visible, keeping the metal in place. Scars laced the skin around the contraption. </p><p>Tony forced himself to calm down, so that his panicked gasps would slow into normal breathing. He slowly sat up, gripping the side of the cot until his hands stopped trembling. </p><p>The man finished shaving and knelt down by a fire. He fished out a pan and dumped some gruel inside, setting it close to the flames. He politely handed Tony a square cut of a mirror so he could further examine the device lodged in his chest. </p><p>They sat in silence as the gruel warmed. The man whistled as he scraped the food around in the bowl. The light front he fire shined off the little pair of glasses perched on his nose. </p><p>“What the hell did you do to me?” Tony wheezed. </p><p>“What I did?” He chuckled. He pulled out a jacket and handed it to Tony, who put it on.“What I did is to save your life. I removed all the shrapnel I could. There’s a lot left, and it’s headed into your atrial septum. Here, wanna see?”</p><p>The man stood up and retrieved a small capsule. He shook it around, showing off the shrapnel that had once been lodged in Tony’s chest. He then tossed it over to Tony, who caught it and examined it. </p><p>“I’ve seen many wounds like that in my village,” the man stated. “Call them the walking dead. Cause it takes about a week for the barbs to reach the vital organs.”</p><p>Tony stared blankly at the cave wall, his body chilled. His breath billowed out of his mouth as a mist, and his nose was turning a shade of pink. His chest was sore and bruised, and Tony could feel it as he breathed. </p><p>“What is this?” Tony croaked. </p><p>“That… is an electromagnet.” The man addressed the metal in Tony’s sternum. “Hooked up to a car battery, and it is keeping the shrapnel from entering your heart. Mm?”</p><p>The man stood and walked to a table as he spoke. He scraped the food into a couple of bowls. Tony zipped up his jacket, for the cold and to cover the machine implanted in his chest. </p><p>Tony noticed the small security camera in the corner, a small red light shining on the box. </p><p>“That’s right, smile!” the man joked. </p><p>“I met you and your dad once, you know,” the man changed the topic. “At a technical conference in Berlin.”</p><p>“I don’t remember,” Tony replied, looking around the room. </p><p>“I imagine not. Your father was so drunk you were too busy teaching him how to walk! Don’t think I could’ve remembered anybody in such a mess. I wouldn’t be able to stand that drunk, much less give a presentation on integrated circuits.”</p><p>“Where are we?” Tony moved on, hardly listening. His mind was spinning and it was hard to keep a hold of the information being thrown at him. </p><p>The man didn’t get to respond. The people were at the door, speaking in Arabic- was that Arabic? </p><p>“Come on, stand up. Stand up!” the man hissed. He ushered Tony to his feet and faced the door. He placed his hands behind his head. “Just do as I do!”</p><p>The men entered the room, their guns catching Tony’s eyes in an instant. </p><p>“Those are mine and my Dad’s guns.” Tony stated in disbelief. “How did they get our guns?”</p><p>“Do you understand me?! Do as I do.” </p><p>Tony put a hand behind his head, the other wrapped around his battery. </p><p>The man at the front of the group was chubby, and had a small beard on his face. He was clad in green shirts, as well as the men around him. </p><p>“Mrhbana bik , tuni satarik , abn , walsharik fi 'iinsha' , 'ashhur qatal jamaeiin ealaa wajh al'ard,” the man said, his hands waving as he spoke. “Yshrifuni 'an 'altaqi bishakhs ealaa aistiedad lilqatl min ajl hadhih alqadiat almuaqara!”</p><p>“He says, ‘Welcome, Tony Stark, the son of, and co-creator for, the most famous mass murderer in the history of America.’ He is honored.” </p><p>The man began to speak again, “Alssarukh aldhy earadah waliduk , 'uriduk 'an tusnaeah li. sarukh 'ariha aldhy nasif safh aljabl.”</p><p>“He wants you to build the missile. The Jericho missile that your father demonstrated.” One of the men with the guns handed Tony’s fellow prisoner a tiny picture. He showed it to Tony. “This one.”</p><p>Tony stared at his captor. He furrowed his brows and looked him in the eyes. </p><p>“I refuse.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I’m taking a lot of stuff from IM1, instead of making it my own, unlike chapter 1-2. It is gonna be vaguely different at parts, but I’m going to stick to generally the same plot line. I hoped you liked the Bruce addition!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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